“The Spirit has blessed us; I have never seen a night so black.” His wrists free, Darit rubbed them and stretched his arms while Sage got to work on Malamin’s bonds.
“You must hurry.” She shoved her ration bag and water sling at him before scooting back to slash through the ropes on their ankles. Sage unhooked the sheath from under her tunic and slid her dagger into it before holding it out to Darit. “Your weapons are with the light, but take this also, that Demorans will know you when you return in friendship.”
The phrase about returning in friendship was one she’d seen in several documents. She hoped she said the words correctly.
Darit’s warm hand wrapped around hers for a second as he took the knife. “You do not need it?”
“I have another.” At her waist, the worn handle of Alex’s dagger dug into her ribs. Before sneaking into the mission, she’d wrapped strips of leather around both hilts to hide their distinctive gold letters.
Darit set his right hand on her right shoulder. “Go with fortune, Saizsch Fahler.”
All agreements shall be sealed with the clasping of shoulders, so that sides are exposed while no weapons are in hand.
Sage placed her hand on his shoulder in return. “Basmedar, Darit Yamon.”
42
SAGE SHUFFLED BACK to the circle of Norsari, hoping to draw any wandering eyes from the shadows now crawling around the stack of tents and bedrolls. “My lantern went out,” she said. “And my flint is back down the line. Can I borrow yours, Corporal?”
Not knowing whom she was addressing, three men stood at once, patting themselves down, digging in pockets for their own flints. One was passed to her in the darkness. She took it and pretended to fumble through several unsuccessful lighting attempts. One of the soldiers nudged her. “Turn around, kid, you’re in the wind.”
She also didn’t have anything to light, but it didn’t matter. At that moment a small bonfire went up near the end of the line. Nicholas had dropped his own lantern on the oiled tents. Men shouted and ran toward the light. Those not close enough to help stood to watch their companions pull the flaming pile of gear apart and stomp on the flames, turning their back on the desert.
Keep looking. Keep looking. Keep looking.
Alex strode around the crowd, giving directions. With the wind, it took a while to get things under control. Just before the fire was extinguished, he spun around and called for everyone to arm up. “We’ve just announced our presence! Form a perimeter. Sergeants, account for your people and report.”
The last flames went out, and the air was filled with curses as men blundered about in the sudden darkness. Every second was needed for Darit and Malamin to get as far away as possible and for the wind to cover their tracks, so Sage tried to encourage confusion in little ways. Someone asked where the Casmuni were, and she called out that Lieutenant Gramwell had taken them. It was only a few minutes before chaos became order, even in the pitch darkness.
Alex was coming. “Who has the prisoners?” he called.
“Lieutenant Gramwell, sir,” someone answered.
“No, he doesn’t. I just left him.”
“Henry was feeding ’em last I knew.”
“Then where’s Henry?” Alex said. He sounded worried.
Men called up and down the line for the missing squire.
Sage crept around the back of the pile of gear, keeping it between her and the sound of Alex’s voice. The searching became more frantic.
“A torch!” Alex bellowed. “I need a torch!” A flame sparked and grew in the direction of the smoldering fire. Someone must have used the embers. A soldier came running with it.
She should have taken the cut ropes; Alex would find them as soon as he had light. Sage had to do more to slow down the discovery and chase. She turned and sprinted blindly into the desert, making messy tracks she hoped weren’t in the direction the Casmuni had gone. She ran over and down several dunes until she was out of breath. Then she scaled one last hill hunched over, digging her fingers into the sand. When she came to the crest, she threw herself over the top and rolled down to the bottom of the other side and lay there, sprawled.
It was many long minutes before a glow appeared over the rise, accompanied by shouting. Sage turned her face away and closed her eyes. Hopefully she’d given Darit and Malamin another twenty minutes while the Norsari tracked her down. Now she’d give them even more time.
“Here! I found him!”
Men came running down the hill, weapons and torches held high. They spread out, some going over the next rise to set a wide defensive circle around her. The more footprints disturbing the area, the better. Alex was on his knees next to her, gently rolling her toward him and pulling the scarf away. “Henry, are you all right?”
She groaned as she turned to her back but kept her eyes shut, partly to make him think she was unconscious and partly because she didn’t want to see his face when he recognized her. The hand on her shoulder froze.
“Captain, that’s Mistress Fowler!” a voice gasped.
“I know who it is!” Alex’s hands felt along her neck, head, and shoulders, checking for injuries. Sage moaned and fluttered her eyelids but kept them closed. He moved down to her arms and her ribs, then lower until he had checked her whole body. “Bleeding hell, Sage,” he muttered. “What are you doing here?”
“No tracks we can follow, Captain,” came a voice and the bright light of a torch. “But the wind covers everything real quick. We were lucky to find him. Her.”
“Gather everyone, we’re going back.” Alex bent low over her and stroked her cheek. “Can you hear me, Sage? Wake up. Please.”
She couldn’t help opening her eyes at the note of hysteria in his voice, but the light was too bright, and she shut them again almost immediately. His face was stricken, terrified. Though she would’ve done it over again, the fullness of her betrayal hit her. “Alex,” she mumbled.
Sweet Spirit, I’m so sorry.
“Yes, it’s me. I’m taking you back.” He slipped his arms under her shoulders and knees and lifted her up, cradling her against his body.
She grabbed his jacket and sobbed into his chest. Oh, Alex, I’m so sorry.
He held her tightly as he climbed up the dune and began the long walk back to camp. “You’re safe now. I’ve got you. It’s all right,” Alex whispered.
No, it wasn’t.
43
THE SUN WAS several hours above the horizon and the air stuffy with heat when she woke. Sage pried her eyes open with difficulty; they were swollen and crusted over from crying herself to sleep. She must not have even woke when Alex set her down.
Alex.
Sage lifted her head and looked around, finding him immediately. He sat cross-legged on the other side of the double tent, elbows on his knees and hands folded under his chin, watching her.
“Good morning,” he said.
His tone was as dead as his face. Alex waited for her to sit up, then nodded to the bowl on the ground beside her. Sage avoided meeting his gaze as she dipped the cloth lying next to it in the warm water. He remained as still as a statue as she wiped grime from her eyes and face.
When she finished, Alex tossed a canteen across to her and went back to his silent position. Sage was so thirsty she’d been ready to drink the dingy water left in the dish, and she chugged half the contents of the canteen without taking a breath. Then she cleared her throat and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and waited for him to speak.
“I told you to stay at the training camp,” he said flatly.
“Yes, you did,” she whispered.
“You disobeyed a direct order.”
“Yes, I did.”
“You almost got yourself killed.”
Sage rubbed her nose with her knuckles and sniffed.
“Do you understand now, Sage? Do you realize this is not a game?” His voice began to rise. “Do you have any idea what could’ve happened?”
He was wrong in so many ways, but that didn’t change that she’d disobeyed and deceived him. That she’d scared him out of his mind last night. He had every right to be angry. She looked down, fresh tears coming to her eyes. “Alex, I’m s—”